Redsand Canyon but the room is so quiet

what renard found here was indeed possibility. was there some promise, some noticeable potential? it was true that the saints now held a desert in every sense of the word, but an empty show was a show nonetheless; even if they tore themselves apart, it would still be a spectacle worth watching. in the meantime, more and more teeth gathered behind the banner – teeth that could be redirected to a useful purpose, for someone with the will to control them and the brain to put them to use.

it was becoming increasingly obvious that person would not be donovan.

renard’s loyalty had always been a loose and flexible thing. next time they might find someone with the intelligence to back up their claims; pretty words meant little without it.

for now, they were at least entertaining.

the scorn in finley’s voice had a bite; but if that was all she saw, who were they to contradict her? the decision had been made already; if there was someone to put in donovan’s place, it would not be her. not if she lacked the ability to see the opportunity before her – even if she could, they had no use for anyone without the interest in taking it.

she was already walking away. renard did not continue; no point in wasting the breath.

there was plenty of space to place cards on the table now, and finley’s non-answer was nothing less than they’d expected. why not respond in kind?

“boredom.” donovan had promised nothing – what else could it be? “doesn’t matter to me how badly he fucks this up. it’s still a show.”

still a show, even if they were already tiring of donovan’s grip on their leash. the question now was finding someone else to hand it off to.